Archive for ‘Uncategorized’

May 14, 2012

Contemporary Flamenco 101: A visit with Niurca Márquez

Niurca Márquez in Morada de los Dioses. Photo by Liliam Dominguez

Niurca Márquez is a contemporary Flamenco dancer who is part of an ongoing evolution of this world dance form. She holds a BA in Dance, an MA in Cultural Studies and has trained professionally both in the US and Spain. She is in town for the Feldenkrais Center of Houston’s training program, and will perform this weekend as part of her visit. She brings A + C editor, Nancy Wozny, into the contemporary Flamenco mix.

A + C: It’s unusual to have training in both contemporary and world forms. What brought you to Flamenco?

Niurca Márquez:I owe that combination to a series of twists and turns in my training, and in particular to having been trained in the US, where we do not see this as a conflict, and boy am I thankful for that.

But as per your question on what brought me to Flamenco, it’s the second time this week I’ve been asked to consider that question and quite honestly, my sense is that it was always there. I’m the daughter of Cuban immigrants, and my grandmother was the one who first enrolled me in ballet classes. It was also she who continually made reference to our Spanish ancestry, made sure I saw all of Sarita Montiel’s movies and sat and watched Carlos Saura’s “El Amor Brujo” with me. It was Spanish actress Trini Moren, wife of El Niño de Utrera, who first noticed the fact that ballet was not the best choice for me and insisted that her daughter bring a Spanish Dance teacher to the studio to work with me. I have her to thank as well.

I have to say that, after living in Spain and getting to know the inner workings of Flamenco, I suspect that my father’s love of music, particularly Spanish rock from the 1960’s, probably also had something to do with it. I was well into my dance studies in college when I decided to focus on Flamenco. I continued to experiment with other forms, such as Afro-Cuban, Argentine Tango and contemporary dance, performing in these styles on a number of occasions. In the end, Flamenco felt closest to home, it was a language I understood and resonated with on a very deep cultural level.

We have an idea of what Flamenco is, however, a term like “experimental Flamenco” is new to many of us. Can you explain what it looks like?

That’s a trick question. I say this because experiments can often yield many different results. My work is very much in line with contemporary Flamenco, a line that has developed considerably in the last 10 years or so, primarily at the hands of artists who were looking to create content-based work that stepped outside the boundaries of traditional “theatrics.”

It’s work that seeks to delve deeper into the hidden or underlining elements in Flamenco and bring them to the forefront in an attempt to strip away all the unnecessary packaging and present work that is relevant to our own individual here and now. Because of this, the music, costuming, set, lighting and movement can be drastically different from one piece to the next.

Can you give us an example?

Sure, in one work I will begin barefoot and either work my way to my shoes or not use them at all. In some works I use very traditional music and deconstruct the movement vocabulary to create a different correlation of events. In other works I have played with the make-up or traditional elements of flamenco like the fan or the “bata de cola” (train dress) in very non-traditional ways.

And finally in some, although I use traditional music and costuming, I have dismantled the traditional dance structures to further explore the lyricism of the music or to tell my story.

Is it still Flamenco though?

The unifying element is that they all begin with the very essence of Flamenco, what I like to call the “flamenco state.” They are characterized by an attention to narrative, a need to communicate an experience (much like you would see happening between artists in a traditional flamenco work), physically the presence of tension and distension or oppositional relationships in the body, a close relationship with rhythm and the sound environment and the appearance in some way of text, whether in the singing or in another form.

These to me are the primary elements of Contemporary or Experimental Flamenco. The experiment usually entails playing with how many of these are present at any given time and how they interact. The clearest examples are the variety of works presented each year at the “Flamec Empiric” Festival curated by Juan Carlos Lerida in Barcelona.

Tell us a bit about your teachers Belen Maya and Juan Carlos Lerida?

They have been two very important people in my life over the past seven years. It feels strange to call them teachers as I have not had a traditional student-teacher relationship with them. There have been others who fill that space, but they have been friends and mentors in so many ways. They, along with Yolanda Heredia, have been instrumental in this search for a personal voice in my dancing and choreography.

When I arrived in Spain to live there permanently in 2007, I thought I’d have to quit dancing for many reasons, and it was Belen who basically coerced me back into the studio to “play.” She later choreographed a solo work for me and continued to advise me as I created works of my own.

Juan Carlos gave me a space to voice my work at the first “Flamenc Empiric” in 2009. It was quite a risk he took with a few of us. His insistence that there were other voices that needed to be heard and that this Contemporary Flamenco was a place that looked very different depending on the guide was gutsy, given that this was the first major festival of its kind. He was also the one who first introduced me to Katsugen and dusted off many long-forgotten tools for creating work that until then I’d relegated to the archives of my college years.

The last one to give me a final push was Yolanda Heredia, who I first took classes from in 1998, and then re-encountered when I participated in Flamenc Empiric. Heredia is a recognized flamenco master from a long line of gypsies in Sevilla who gifted me her technique for the “bata de cola” and actually trusts me to teach it outside of Spain.

Heredia has been quite inspirational in the development of my own teaching methodology and ideas about how to delve even deeper into the roots of Flamenco in order to really understand it. Not the designer flamenco we’re used to these days or the flamenco in a “dark smoke-filled tavern,” but rather the flamenco that is passed down from one generation to the next, in the kitchen listening to your mother sing, in the way people speak to each other on the street, in the way we inhabit and share space.

She was there when I presented my first really experimental piece in 2009, and I was terrified as I knew her to be extremely traditional and one of a very small number of masters of the bata de cola (the piece basically deconstructed the bata). What she said afterwards, which I will not repeat here as it was very graphic, was the best compliment I could have ever received. She took me on as a student after that, so I guess she appreciated my attempt.

I’m curious how the Feldenkrais Method informs your dancing practice?

In 2002, I was at a concert when I began to feel extreme pain and discomfort like I had not experienced ever. Weeks of bed-rest and an MRI later showed a considerable injury to my neck and I was told I could not dance anymore. At the time, I was a soloist in one company and was a collaborating artist in another, so this was out of the question. The director of one of the companies put me in contact with Dale Russel, a Feldenkrais practitioner, who over the years has become a close friend, and the rest reads like most of these stories.

At first, I used the method to find ways to move around the injury until it was better. Then it progressed to using it as a warm-up of sorts, to keep me safe and healthy as I continued to dance. Eventually though, I realized that it had seeped into much of what I did, including my understanding of movement and how to create works. I started the training program in Barcelona in 2008, but had to leave it for personal reasons.

I continued my own practice in the studio, but in 2010 that changed drastically. I had the opportunity to work with choreographer Georg Blaschke and Sascha Krausneker, who are part of the Vienna Training program, and something clicked for me. They have been using the method to create work and suddenly in their lab everything made sense. I had finally found my in to teach and choreograph Flamenco in a way that made sense, from the inside out so to speak instead of from a final goal, look, speed or image.

It also solidified what I had already been noticing in my teaching over the years as a way to enter movement that was natural for my students and construct or mold the Flamenco from there, instead of from some idea of what it was, that was distorted to begin with.

So in essence what had been part of my personal practice for some years began to be an active part of both my teaching and composition practice.

Do you ever use Awareness Through Movement (ATM), the group movement part of the method, to create dances?

Yes, I worked with another dancer in Seville to create a work based on ATM’s. Essentially, we would start with an ATM and then look at the “residue”, or what was left in our bodies afterward, and would improvised based on that, so the movement signatures where born out of the ATM’s. It’s the same process I’m using in my new work “The History House.” Because of the work’s theme it seems like a good approach…we’ll see what happens.

Tell us about the show coming up on May that you are doing with your husband, the contemporary flamenco guitarist and composer Jose Luis Rodriguez?

Mi Sentir” is exactly that, our way of feeling. It’s a compilation of sorts of some of our earlier collaborations, sprinkled with some new material. It will feature all original compositions by Jose Luis and two to three “interventions” in dance.

When we first started to work together, much of what we did revolved around the idea of making the dance a visual representation of the music. We were both frustrated by the fact that so much of conventional flamenco is ruled by the dancing, and as such much of the beauty and intricacy of the music has been lost. So no, there will not be any lengthy footwork sections or “look at me” moments in the dancing…it will be much more about look at this, feel this, experience this. One of the dances is from our work “Intimate Spaces” that is currently on tour, and another is part of an upcoming project of Jose Luis’ “Resonancias” that we hope to debut sometime in the Spring of 2013.

This show tends to shift and morph depending on where we are and how we’re relating to our environment. In this case, we wanted to pay tribute to some of the palos or rhythms that we each love and share that with our audience, give them an opportunity to experience them rather than simply listening.

The evening won’t include the more experimental work, we hope to get a chance to show some of that in September when we return, but even when it seems “traditional,” I think folks will see and more importantly feel that there is something different happening. We hope that they will start to understand how we experience our own “Nu Flamenco.”

Niurca Márquez and Jose Luis Rodriguez perform at Casa de Lucia on May 19 at 8pm & May 20 at 5:30 pm, at 7016 Culmore Drive. Call 832 721-0357. Suggested donation $25.

 

October 27, 2011

Puppets among us

Peter Chu of Kidd Pivot in a dress rehearsal of "Dark Matters" Photo by Christopher Duggan

Update: BooTown presents a whole evening of puppet shows, including new work by BooTown and Camela Clements on Oct 29, Nov. 4 & 5 at Caroline Collective. And, get this, there’s a Wozny in the show.   Check out their indiegogo campaign too.

Bobbindoctrin presents My Cold Dead Fingers by Joel Orr, with puppets by Katie Jackson on Nov. 11, 12, 14, 18 and 19 at 14 Pews, which has become puppet central.

Divergence Vocal Theater’s Autumn Soiree on October 14 & 15 included the puppetry of Kelly Switzer along with  singers Misha Penton and Alison Greene; composer, George Hearthco; actor, Jon Harvey; dancer, Meg Brooker;  pianist, Jeremy Wood; and Mini Timmaraju, tabla.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

She could tap dance, effortlessly land in a perfect split, then buoyantly spring some seven feet in the air for a little breast stroke, as if made of nothing more than thread. Did I mention her sky-high extensions?

So, the dancer in question is in fact made of cloth, designed by legendary puppeteer Basil Twist, and deftly manipulated by the astute dancers of Jane Comfort and Company in her Bessie Award-winning piece Underground River, recently performed at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival. The dance explores the life force of a young girl in a coma. Somehow, this tiny surrogate gives us a glimpse into the unknowable territory of the unconscious. It’s eerie and uplifting, qualities not usually found on the same stage. Puppets are like that. They are both of and not of this world, connected to and separate from those who bestow them life.

Somehow, this tiny surrogate gives us a glimpse into the unknowable territory of the unconscious. It’s eerie and uplifting, qualities not usually found on the same stage. Puppets are like that. They are both of and not of this world, connected to and separate from those who bestow them life.

A little closer to home, Paedarchy Puppets and Camella Clementspresent Fantasies of Stabbing Edison in the Neck: A Nikola Tesla Puppet Show Friday night at 14 Pews. As a Tesla freak myself (he did his alternating current thing right in my hometown of Buffalo), I can imagine these handmade actors are perfectly cast to reveal the dark side of light.

I’ve been creeped out by puppets ever since Pinocchio turned into a donkey in Disney’s 1940 film. Still, I get excited when a sub-human presence enters the stage. By some strange suspension of disbelief, puppeteers have the power to make their own bodies invisible, directing our attention to what would be a lifeless object without them. It’s animation at its deepest level, with various layers of scaffolding visible, depending on the type of puppet.

Twist, a household name in theater circles, is fluent in many styles of puppetry, much of which has been seen in Houston. Houston Grand Opera‘s production of Hansel and Gretel  featured the then HGO Studio artist Liam Bonner stuck inside Twist’s gigantic machine puppet. WhenSociety for the Performing Arts brought in the Joe Goode Performance Group, a non-human dancer mesmerized us in Wonderboy. The last timePilobolus popped in for their acro-candy style of dance making, they showed off Twist’s finesse with shadows in Darkness and Light, also on the SPA stage. I just recently watched a DVD of Twist’s Petrushka, enormously weird and entertaining.

It’s been a summer of puppets for me, first with Underground River, followed by Kidd Pivot in Crystal Pite’s Dark Matters, a sinister and captivating investigation into the creation myth. Maybe you caught Joey Fauerso’s subversive Me Time at Box 13 ArtSpace, where the artist makes out with a policeman, a firefighter and construction worker puppets. Awkard and hilarious. ”The object of my affection is literally an extension and projection of self, reflecting many of the highly narcissistic romantic descriptions of erotic love,” writes Fauerso in her artist statement.

We can’t talk about puppets in Houston without mentioning Bobbindoctrin. “I think they’re from Eastern Europe,” I told Sixto Wagan, leaving DiverseWorks after their production based on Tolstoy’s Ivan the Fool several years back. “No they’re not,” replied Wagan. “I work here; they’re from Houston.”

I guess that’s how alien puppets feel to me. Bobbindoctrin founder Joel Orr has a show coming up at 14 Pews in November, in addition to his annual festival next spring. 14 Pews’ Artistic Director Cressandra Thibodeaux is also making a film about Orr (and others), aptly titled, Puppet Doc.

Houston has a burst of puppet action coming down the pike. Bobbindoctrin veterans Mike and Kelly Switzer’s Bedtime Stories headlines FrenetiCore’s Houston Fringe Festival, Aug. 12-14, atSuper Happy Fun Land. Mike is a former member of the Puppet Liberation Front and Kelly is an Assistant Professor of drama at University of Houston-Downtown.

Bedtime Stories is a written/salvaged/compiled piece. I see the script as a chance to hear some snippets of my favorite conspiracy theory literature spoken through the mouth of a puppet,” says Mike. “Kelly has made very traditional looking ‘kids show’ kind of puppets, so having this weird stuff come out of the father’s mouth adds a kind of poetry to it.”

“Puppetry forces a little alienation on the audience, analyzing what they are seeing and feeling rather than being swept up in the moment.”

Kelly prefers the separation puppets allow. “I like the fourth wall the puppets create,” says Kelly. “Puppetry forces a little alienation on the audience, analyzing what they are seeing and feeling rather than being swept up in the moment.”

BooTown goes to puppet town this fall with a pair of shows. “A Bloody Puppet Show is based on the Sally Jessy Rafael episode with metal band GWAR as the musical guest, only we are definitely deviating from history,” says Emily Hynds, BooTown’s Artistic Director. “A Sandbox Love Story follows, which is about two kids who like each other but don’t know how to express it, playground style. We’re talking hair pulling and sand-castle-push-overing.”

Hynds has also enlisted Clements‘ assistance for both of these projects. “I’ve helped to conceptualize puppet designs that reflect what the puppets actually need to be able to do,” says Clements, whose play, Beast Baby Hospital, was a standout at the most recent Bobbindoctrin Festival.

Clements has some serious puppet connections. Her husband, Kevin Taylor, has been working with Twist for a decade. The couple met while Taylor was working on HGO’s Hansel and Gretel. (Lots of puppet roads lead to Twist, some to marriage.) Both Clements and Taylor have new fall shows in the works.

I haven’t seen the five Tony Award-winning play War Horse at Lincoln Center, but it’s on my must-see list. Handspring Puppet artists Adrian Kohler and Basil Jones are the masterminds behind Joey, the War Horse.  Kohler gets it right in his Ted Talk, when he says, ”Puppets have to try to be alive.” No one understood that more than the late Muppet master Jim Henson. Next time I’m in New York a visit to the Museum of Moving Imageto see “Jim Henson’s Fantastic World” is in order.

Until then, I’ll hole up with The Dark Crystal knowing full well that Houston is one happening puppet place.

September 13, 2011

Power to the People

The cast of Theatre Under The Stars' VOTE! A New Musical playing at the Hobby Center September 16-17, 2011. Photo by: Claire McAdams Photography

Update:  Houston is still voting crazed. Take Vote!, a new Theatre Under the Stars musical, penned by two Rice Alum and staring local performers goes down this weekend.  Jane Weiner of Hope Stone has her own voting frenzy going on with a Pepsi Refresh Project for her kid’s program . She wants your vote.

The story did arouse some wise feedback from Catastrophic Theatre artistic director Jason Nodler, who had some good points.  Do we really want the audience  driving programming? There are better ways to get them engaged.  I tried to concentrate on people using a voting process in more innovative ways,  yet Nodler’s worries are founded. We could easily go a little American Idol crazy.  Next up at Catastrophic is Mickle Maher’s There is a Happiness that Morning is, running Sept. 23-Oct. 23 at Catastrophic’s offices on 1540 Sul Ross.

Oh, and guess who got elected at BalletMet? Houston Ballet chief Stanton Welch was selected through the BalleMet onDemand program. His piece Return, set to music by Benedetto Marcello opens on Sept. 23.

Jane Comfort and Company in Beauty; photo Christopher Duggan

Reprinted from Culturemap.

“The people have the power,” screamed Patti Smith in her now iconic song from Dream of Life. It’s official. Art lovers don’t want to just plop in row “J” like a lump anymore. Selecting our seats, where to eat and whether or not to valet park just doesn’t cut it these days. The era of the passive viewer is winding down. First, the audience wanted a party, now they want some authority.

To be specific, they want a vote.

Simon Cowell may have come and gone (to The X Factor), but theAmerican Idol template is everywhere, from Houston Grand Opera’sConcert of Arias to Opera Vista’s Competition/Festival. Most ballet competitions have audience choice awards, which dancers cherish. It means something to have the audience speak up. The performing arts have gone contest happy. All good for the most part and way better than draining your brain on shame-based reality TV shows.The performing arts have gone contest happy. All good for the most part and way better than draining your brain on shame-based reality TV shows.

Let’s look at some innovations that go beyond the Idol format. Apparently, it’s not just the vote that matters but contact with the people you are voting for, as in the artists.

There are tons of fundraisers that get folks engaged through a voting process. Gift of Gift of (GOGO) is the love child of a contest and crowd fundingThe idea is for new collectors to have a chance to support emerging photographers while sipping a martini. Yes, there’s a party. Always a party. Write that part down. It’s a crucial step in leaving lumpland. The ticket price of the party gives you three votes.

GOGO held an open call for entries for photographers to submit work. The vote and party night goes down on August 20 at Spacetaker. The artists come to chat up their work and vie for your votes. The cash haul from the party tickets helps the group purchase the top-voted photographs, which are then gifted to a museum, in this case it’s theMuseum of Fine Arts, Houston. GOGO plans to expand to other museums across the country.

Earlier this spring, the team from Black Hole, Poison Girl and Antidotethrew a $20-a-head SuperNova party where they listened to impassioned pitches from four Montrose non-profits: Tara Kelly from the Mandell Park Association on an idea for a video podcast tour of the park, Lindsay Burleson from BooTown Theater on a bloody puppet show on ice, Maureen McNamara from the Wilson Montessori PTO on a natural play space for Spark Park and Ryan Perry on a mobile astronomy lab.

Even the losers are winners in that they have potentially reached a few new folks. The Spark Park won the pool of $640 but runner-up Emily Hynds of Bootown reports, “It was a blast.” Partygoers feasted on soup, beer and bread.

“Ideally, I’d like to see these happen at other places in other areas of the city. I’d love for it to be known as something we do in Houston, that neighborhoods get together and make these kinds of decisions together,” says Scott Repass, an owner of Black Hole. “It could have a real impact on how we feel about our city and our neighborhoods.”

I like the mix of arts, science and community projects.

News_Nancy_Voting_Filter

David Rafaël Botana, left, and James McGinn in Jonah Bokaer's "Filter. Photo by Anna Lee Campbell "

It’s not always about getting money, sometimes it’s an aesthetic choice. If you liked the lighting in Jonah Bokaer’s newest work, Filter, you can thank the audience, they voted for it in a smartphone app called Mass Mobile. When Bokaer arrived at Ferst Center at Geogia Tech he knew he wanted to develop some form of audience interaction. When Stephen Garrett, a graduate student at Georgia Tech Music Technology Program came forward with his idea of creating a special app, Bokaer was thrilled.

Known for his meticulous dances, Bokaer was fully ready to let go of the lighting. Audiences chose between four options and the timing of each choice. Bokaer was amazed at how well it all worked out. Several trial runs and the fact that he worked closely with his lighting designer, Aaron Copp, helped with that outcome.  University of Houston Cynthia Woods Mitchell Center for the Arts has plans to help Bokaer develop his next big project this spring.

During Psophonia Dance Company’s spring show, “Rip in the Atmosphere,” co-founder Sonia Noriega had the audience watch three versions of the same solo, each set to different music. During intermission, the audience voted on which music worked best. During the second half of the show, dancers repeated the piece as a trio with the winning piece of music. “Voting gave me the opportunity to interact with the audience,” says Noriega, who spent the intermission urging people to cast their vote. “People really got into it.”

BalletMet in Columbus, Ohio, goes a step further in letting audiences curate the bill that opens the September season through a voting process in BalletMet onDemand. I voted for Dominic Walsh and Houston Ballet chief Stanton Welch, who has a long relationship with the innovative Ohio troupe. Mildred’s Umbrella also lets the audience sit in the curator’s seat this season with their Fresh Ink Reading Series, where the audience votes for which play to produce next season.

Choreographer Jane Comfort takes the voting concept to the deepest place, letting selected audience members judge a Barbie beauty contest smack in the middle of her new work, Beauty, performed by Jane Comfort and Company at Jacob’s Pillow Dance Festival this week. The judged get to play judge in Comfort’s biting examination of the impossible standards of beauty set by mainstream media. I voted for Barbie #4 and she won. I felt, well, powerful.

I can’t wait to see what artists want me to vote on next. While the wisdom of the crowd is still being negotiated, I firmly believe that the future of art is in direct and lively communication. If it comes with some soup and beer, even better. Tired of just sitting there, we want to be a part of the action.

August 25, 2011

Review: iMee at Houston Dance Festival

 

iMEE Artists, Britt Juleen, Lindsey McGill, Andrea Dawn Shelley & Jessica Collado in Spencer Gavin Hering's & Andrea Dawn Shelley's, "Superfluous." Photo by Simon Gentry.

 

Reprinted from Dance Source Houston.

Don’t let iMEE‘s weird name throw you off, this is a company on the move on Houston’s dance-scape. iMEE stands for “Infinite Movement Ever Evolving;” I can’t vouch for the infinite, but it’s a “hell yeah” on the “movement” and “evolving,” which were in full evidence for their recent Houston Dance Festival show at Barnevelder.

The program opened with Superfluous, a light romp set to 1950s tunes, jointly choreographed by iMEE co-founders Spencer Gavin Hering and Andrea Dawn Shelley. The pair are well known to Houston audiences for their work with Dominic Walsh Dance Theater and more recently, Hope Stone Dance. But here, they are standing on their own as relatively new choreographers. Hering and Shelley showed off a theatrical bent in their first outing, creating a sense of community, while the dancers enacted a collection of soulful songs evoking the spirited tenor of the 1950s. Oliver Halkowich and Shelley possessed a luscious quality in the sensuous opening passage, capturing the wistful nature of nostalgia. Jessica Collado stood out for her finely honed attack alternating with a silken quality. I could have stood for a bit less drunk dancing, yet the choreographers showed a knack for narrative, musicality, and bringing out the best qualities of their dancers.

Maurice Causey changed the mood completely with Grim Eye, his raw edged apocalyptic opus, set to an electronic score by Gabriel Prokofiev. Causey’s heavy metal ballet begins and ends with the volume cranked up to full. I guess that’s the point, but it does get a bit heavy-handed and monotonic. Although I never quite understood why or how we got to this bitter place, Grim Eye did indeed keep my eyes busy with plenty of dynamic movement sharply executed by this fantastic group of dancers. Clad in white pants and black war paint, Causey conjures a tribal essence, sinister in its relentlessness. Jeremy Choate’s lighting design added to the piece’s harsh landscape.

The dancing proved to be the most impressive element to the evening. Shelley, Hering, Lindsey McGill, Britt Juleen, Cristian Laverde Koenig, Halkowich, Collado, Edgar Anido—terrific dancers all—made up for any discrepancies in the choreography. What a pleasure to see such distinguished guest artists, Houston Ballet dancers, and local dancers sharing the stage. Good move iMEE.

One thing is perfectly clear, iMEE has arrived on a solid note. Your next chance to see them is during Dance Source Houston’s annual Weekend of Texas Contemporary Dance at Miller Outdoor Theatre on September 23 & 24. That’s not a plug, it’s a strong suggestion.

June 22, 2011

Dancing in the great outdoors: From Miller to Discovery Green, it’s a summer arts thing

News_Miller Outdoor Theatre_Step Afrika

Step Afrika

 

Late last summer I stood motionless on a breezy evening, utterly transfixed while watching Balanchine’s iconic Serenade, beautifully performed by Purchase Dance Corps on theInside/Out stage at Jacob’s Pillow.

“You know Serenade was first performed outside,” Norton Owen, the Pillow’s archivist, said to me in passing. I don’t recall whether I knew that or not, but I do remember thinking that perhaps the ballet’s famous outstretched arm is really a gesture to halt the wind.

The natural world is still the best dance teacher out there.

Between Miller Outdoor Theatre and Discovery Green, Houston is one busy outdoor performance hub, and the season is well under way withThe Metropolitan Dance Company’s Sizzling Summer Dance taking place Friday night at MIller, a favorite venue for The Met. Now celebrating its 15th season, The Met’s brand of high-octane energy easily blasts over the hillside.

Sizzle they will, with the likes of choreographers Joe Celej, Paola Georgudis, Kiki Lucas, Jason Parsons and a world premiere by Julie Fox.

“The dancers love performing there. It’s a great way for many people who wouldn’t normally come to our other performances to get a chance to see us,” says Marlana Walsh-Doyle, the Met’s managing director. “We look forward to this show every year, however, it’s also end of our season, so it’s a time to reflect on the year as a company.”

Just last June I watched one fantastic performance by Step Afrika with Walsh-Doyle at the Dance/USA showcase. We turned to each other and said, almost at the same time, “We have got to get them to Miller.”

So it’s no surprise that Walsh-Doyle and I did a happy dance when we found out that the world-traveling company lands on the Miller Stage on July 2. For founder C. Brian Williams, it’s not just a visit to Houston, but a trip home and Step Afrika’s first main stage performance in Williams’ own backyard.

Step Afrika is the first professional company dedicated to this uniquely African-American art form, comprised of percussion footwork and chanting. Step dates back to 1920, with origins in the Black Fraternity system.

“The roots of step are right on the yard of college campuses,” Williams says. “It translates so well to the outdoors because the dancers are also musicians. We are the dance and we are the music, there’s no recorded music used in our show.”

Step Afrika has performed at outdoor arenas all over the globe. Williams fully expects a lively exchange with the crowd. “We need that energy,” he says.

Dancing in the great outdoors is also front and center because I’ m packing my bags to return to Jacob’s Pillow, where I will be a scholar-in-residence for a few weeks. I will also be visiting Houston Ballet artistic director Stanton Welch, while he creates a new work with the Ballet Program students for the Pillow’s annual Gala. The newly rebuilt Henry J. Leir Stage will be just buzzing with dance with free shows Wednesday through Saturday during the season.

What a great way for families to be introduced to the art form. So many photos and films of famous dance folk there were taken outside.

“That’s because it was the only place with enough light,” Owen tells me.

Ted Shawn and his Men Dancers spent much of their time doing hard work outdoors, it was part of his ethos. “Well, it was the depression and someone had to do the work,” quips Owen, reminding me not to get too romantic about the whole thing.

There’s a continuum here, from an outdoor platform with a breathtaking vista to more traditional arenas, some of which come with a roof, fancy lights, seats, and slurpees. Still, looking at those Yup’ik dance masks atThe Menil Collection’s Upside Down: Arctic Realities, I’m reminded that the first time anyone moved in a symbolic way, it was most probably outside.

“And it was probably dark, too,” offers Emily Todd, the Menil’s deputy director. Wow, no one will let me get remotely sentimental on this subject.

Dance doesn’t have to be in the woods to be captivating. When the acro/dance troupe Galumpha performed at Discovery Green earlier this spring, its risky air candy moves were framed by Houston’s dramatic urbanscape. Tall buildings make a perfect backdrop for bodies stacked up on top of each other. I wasn’t able to go, but  Discovery Green’s programing director Susanne Theis filled me in.

“It was amazing,” Theis says. “I’d seen these incredible athletic artists in a small theater in New York and was eager to see how their show would change outdoors on Discovery Green’s open stage. Their athleticism and artistry was enhanced by being viewed against the backdrop of the activity in the park, the drama of the skyline and the movement of the sun overhead.”

I expect people were grooving to the Raul Malo’s tunes at the Capital One Bank Thursday Concert on the Green. Just last week, I ran into spontaneous dancing to the soulful tunes of  Rue Davis ”The Man with Many Voices” as part of Blues & Burgers on the  Anheuser-Busch stage, while American Association of Museum conference attendees looked on.

Even the tiny tykes skipped through the Gateway Fountain in rhythm.

Leave it to the little ones to teach us that we don’t need a roof, walls or AC to bring our bodies into motion.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

June 15, 2011

My Eyes, Your Body

Titian Diana and Actaeon 1556-1559 Oil on canvas Bought jointly by the National Galleries of Scotland and the National Gallery, London, with contributions from The Scottish Government, The National Heritage Memorial Fund, The Monument Trust, The Art Fund (with a contribution from the Wolfson Foundation) and through public appeal, 2009

The great recent debacle in the ballet world, known as “Sugarplumgate” and other less friendly terms, came and went in my consciousness until I found myself at a recent performance, fixated on the circumference of a dancer’s thighs.

“Watch the dance, not the legs,” I silently yelled at my brain. What’s wrong with me? And me, of all people, a thick-thighed somatic educator, who spent two decades teaching people to accept their bodies. This can’t be true. At war with my own attention, I missed the performance entirely by trying not to be bothered by a pair of less-than-perfect legs. Too distracted by so-called imperfection, I became a victim of my own learned blindness. The perceptive illusion of the stage, making bodies appear larger, doesn’t help either. How many times have you run into a dancer in public who you thought taller or larger than you imagined?

The very next week, a whole host of emotions, from ecstasy to embarrassment, emerged while watching a large ballroom dancer wearing a fragment of a dress. I was always taught that if you gain weight, it’s time to get the tent dresses out. She moved with the message, “I am large, get over it. I am amazing. I love my body and, if you don’t get past your groundless prejudices, you are going miss this kick-ass performance of mine.” As the evening when on, I could not take my eyes off her; the rest of the show seemed to recede into the background. I left awestruck, confused, and completely exhilarated. Something about her dancing taught me to see again. Where were those skills a week earlier? Maybe my vision – or my brain – needed a shock treatment.

A casual comment by a ballet master after a local modern dance show said it all, “I am not used to watching normal size bodies dance, you know, it’s really interesting.” He nailed it. We have habituated our gaze toward a narrow set of proportions based on the kind of dance we watch and the expectations we bring to our viewing. Our eyes have grown lazy. We simply don’t see enough professional dance with a variety of bodies on stage. And I have interviewed numerous artistic directors in the ballet and contemporary genres over the years who claim they love all kinds of bodies. Sure, they hire a few shorter and taller dancers, but it’s rare that we see even average weight dancers in professional modern or ballet companies.

Certainly there couldn’t be anything wrong with me. It’s my brain, and something even larger, the human brain. (When in doubt, blame your species.) Ideas of beauty converge across multiple fields, from psychology to philosophy to evolutionary biology. Scientists have been trying to unravel the beauty problem for decades. We have biological reasons for preferring certain proportions that are more ideal to continue the species. Numerous studies propose that we like symmetry, things that match, and small bodies, because they remind us of youth. According to the late philosopher Denis Dutton’s findings, we know from early tools, that humans have appreciated high levels of skill before they had language, which explains a preference for ballet, but certainly not types of bodies doing ballet. I take no comfort from any of these findings. Why be imprisoned by one’s biology? Why shouldn’t it be possible to grab the wheel of our perception and drive the vision ship? Aren’t brain scientists telling us that neuroplasticity – the ability to rewire our brains in response to experience – is all the rage, too?

Perception’s faultiness is not only well documented by David Eagleman, of Baylor College’s medical school, and other neuroscientists, but somewhat necessary. According to Eagleman, if we actually processed all that our eyeballs take in we would never get past the front door. We are need-to-know perceivers. So taking all that inherent wobbliness to task, do we really need to add social and cultural filters to the mix? When normal folk heard about Jenifer Ringer’s supposed extra pounds, the insular world of ballet bubbled to the surface. Regular people thought the whole situation ludicrous. There’s yet another great waking up right there, in that the general American public became privy to ballet’s harsh standards.

If I’m too easily distracted by what I perceive as imperfections, then my attentive skills need some rigorous buffing up. Why not become conscious of the forces acting upon my brain or seeing? It seems the responsible choice. The aesthetics of ballet may remain a rarefied world, where the long, lean, and small-headed occasionally rise to the top. The cloud of perfection, recently stirred by the spell of Darren Aronofsky’s film Black Swan, Jennifer Homans’s masterful book Apollo’s Angels, and Alastair Macaulay’s now-famous remark, may forever haunt the dance world. But why let it? Can’t we take more control of the perceptive process and truly let go of norms we have agreed to?

A curious thing happened to me while watching the gaggle of all-sized students in Mrs. Wilkinson’s ballet class in the national tour of Billy Elliot. It seemed no big deal. Could I have broken in my vision already?

Attention is a muscle that responds to discipline and persistence. I want to live in a larger dance watching world, where the entire domain of all moving bodies has something of beauty of offer. I plan to embrace imperfection; it’s what makes the world juicy. So with that mission, I dedicate this year to turning my vision filters off and my eyes on.

Reprinted from Dance/USA’s Green Room.

Post script:  Since viewing the Titian and the Golden Age of  Venetian Painting: Masterpieces from the National Galleries of Scotland at  the MFAH show, my eyes have had some further practice looking at a variety of bodies. True, none were ballet or modern dancers, still eyes need all the help they can get when it comes to physical diversity. I had forgotten how much visual art contributes to our ideas on the human form. Silly me.

June 3, 2011

Wendy Wagner at Darke Gallery

Wendy Wagner In Hoppity Horse Heaven Mixed media painting on canvas, 50″ x 50″, 2010

I always get a big mental boost when I see work by Wendy Wagner. It’s like a bolt of strange that sets me straight. She brings us into her enchanting world in Once Uponse a Time in the Land of O-Poppida …with new paintings, prints, ceramics, installation art and animation at DARKE | gallery. Here, Wagner moves into portraiture embedded in her distressed surfaces, creating a calm/not calm dynamic.  The wall sculptures are simply delicious.  I want a Wendy Wagner house.  A movie too.  There’s just so much wit in her work. Stills from her animation amplify her characteristic unsettling atmosphere.

Imagine whimsy on steroids, cartoons with punch and a delicious range of media, and you can get an idea of Wagner’s work. The 2008 Hunting Art Prize winner conjures her signature brand of virtuoso weird, daring to get dangerously close to sentimental in her investigation of memory, dreams and the anatomy of  ”cute.”  Oh, and her dog is in some of the pictures.

On display through June 10, with installation and artworks continuing in the upstairs gallery through July 9

Reprinted from Culturemap.

Beam Me Up by Wendy Wagner

May 27, 2011

Trading spaces: Lawndale’s Artist Studio Program provides temporary digs & inspiration

Daniel McFarlane, “Aqua Quartz II,” 2011

I’m still fixated on spaces artists work in. I call it the “Center for Dance” phenom: A new building in your art form pops up and then you wonder where everyone else is cranking it out. I’ve always been a space nut; the “where” effects the “what“ big time in my book.

Last weekend, I gawked at the snazzy new Spring Street Studios, an anchor of the new Lower Washington Cultural Arts District. They are pretty, but fairly pricey for an artist who might also have a residential rent to deal with, which is why so many artists “studio” at home, where you get convenience and economy at the expense of isolation and occasionally tripping over your work.

Putting a roof over your art practice doesn’t come cheap, but it can deeply influence one’s work life.

Houston has its share of residency programs, but since I accidently leftLawndale Art Center out of my story on underground art (a Lone Star-size omission), I thought I would pay a social call to hear about their outstanding Artist Studio Program.

Listen up, three lucky artists per year get nine months of free studio space, a stipend, a materials allowance, and a show at the end of it.

Wow. Nice.

And it’s a chic space on the third floor of Lawndale’s sleek art deco building, with wood floors, plenty of natural light, a healthy AC unit, sparkling white walls hungry for a new batch of your work, artists as neighbors to bounce ideas off of, free parking and a separate entrance so you can come and go through anytime of the day and night.

Wait, it gets better: Lawndale arranges meetings with visiting artists, curators and writers, which is certainly an easier way to show off your work than having them traipse over your pets, kids, and messy living rooms.

Attention Gulf Coast artists from any stage in your career, all this can be yours; the application deadline for Round 6 is May 16 at 5 p.m.

I popped in to visit  the current crop, Hillerbrand +MagsamenAnthony Thompson Shumate and Daniel McFarlane, who make up the Measured exhibit, running through June 4.

I met Stephan Hillerbrand and Mary Magsamen while their two children (who often appear in their work) milled about their spacious studio. The husband and wife team look at their Lawndale time as a chance to branch out, which is how the photo series House/Hold took hold.

“We got here, looked at these empty walls and thought we had better put something up on them,” says Hillderband.

Mythic ideas embedded in everyday heroes began to develop as a theme, inspired by G.K. Chesterton’s famous quote, “The most extraordinary thing in the world is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman and their ordinary children.“  Most poignant is the portrait with their couch and the family human pyramid. It’s domestic and epic. Both enjoyed the camaraderie of their fellow studio dwellers.

“Feedback from artists is always helpful,” says Magasmen. “We haven’t had that since grad school.”

The studio gave the couple a chance to make and live with the work outside of  their home.

“As video artists, we literally could work with our laptop on the kitchen table, and when we would shoot our videos, they were always set up in our living room, backyard, in the car or the garage,” says Hillderbrand. “So this idea of having a physical space where we could go and work and think and put something on the wall and then at the end of the day lock the door, and know that when we came back the next day, it would still be exactly there, was wonderful. The dog didn’t eat it, the kids didn’t spill cereal all over our print or the clean laundry didn’t get mixed into our installation.”

Shumate used his time to start from scratch.

“I wanted to build a whole new vocabulary, challenge myself and pare it down,” says Shumate, talking a mile a minute. A quick glance at the body of his work lets me know that he’s one versatile guy.  Shumate projects a mad scientist’s vibe, as he tries to show me as much work as possible during my brief visit. All the while, a modified CAD machine re-traces his drawing of a fish. Like the others, Shumate thrived on the right dose of companionship.

“It’s great to have another set of brains around who know the jargon,” he says. “We’ve had some great conversations.”

He describes his work for the show as neither “analog nor digital,” but some kind of middle ground. Yet, there’s nothing unconsidered in his detailed to scale drawings of such objects as a gun and a car, now occupying a clinical pale green wall in the main gallery. I like the way he includes the unit of measurements within the piece itself, lending a completeness to his investigation. There’s a pristine exactitude to his work.

“It was a nine-month blur of exploration and experimentation in a quiet environment,” sums up Shumate. “I am sad to see it go; I’ve been so spoiled.”

I felt a sense of elation just walking in McFarlane’s studio, and it’s not just because he never stops smiling. Paint takes on an object quality on his glistening canvases. It’s hard not to touch them (I may have). His paintings juxtapose his signature amorphous paint forms with architectural elements. Sculptural and witty, this body of work projects a celebratory edge, within a disciplined structure.

“I feel as if I should be dressed up and drinking champagne,” I tell the artist.  ”I know,” agrees McFarlane, the youngest of the pack. “They are so positive.”

The Studio Program brought McFarlane back to his hometown after finishing his MFA at University of Florida, where he accumulated numerous honors. He left Florida with a career on a roll, able to roll right into Lawndale to keep it going.

“It’s been fantastic; I get to reclaim my birthright as a Texas artist,” McFarlane says, with his characteristic optimism. “The residency was an encouraging environment that created a sense of community with access to the resources of the Houston art scene. It provided a great space and time to make work. I wish it was longer. As far as residencies go, this is a good one.”

Reprinted from Culturemap.

March 31, 2011

Blood, sweat & sacrifice: In the world of dance practice really does make perfect

News_Nancy_training_Morning Company class_Hope Stone Dance

Hope Center students

Photo by Simon Gentry

“Why do dancers have to take class every day? Don’t they have it down by now?” a man asked me after a lecture.

It was an honest and somewhat naive question, pointing to how little we understand training in the performing arts. Training is an astounding thing, and we recognize it when we see it.

There’s a magical moment in Billy Elliot when he stuns his classmates with his balance and line. Even his miner dad eventually sees his power.

And didn’t we all gasp at how ballerina-ish Natalie Portman looked after one year of training (well, at least her arms did, thanks to Kurt Froman’sexcellent ballet classes)? The bottom half of crazy girl Nina Sayerbelonged to the uber technician Sarah Lane, an ABT soloist. Dance Magazine Chief Wendy Perron sets us straight on the training truth behind Black Swan blackoutgate.

We are talking blood, sweat, sacrifice, time and tears when it comes to performing artists’ dedication. Most of us know that musicians clock in six hours a day; Performance Today has an excellent series detailing The Art of Practicing right now.  But we are less familiar with the rigor it takes for other artists to complete those movement marvels night after night without a hitch.

When LI Wei runs back and forth on a swinging slackwire during his act as part of Cirque du Soleil’s OVO , you bet it’s taken years to manage the particular neuromuscular connections to make it all look second nature. LI is one of the few people in the world with the chops to pull it off.

Andrew Corbett, Artistic Assistant for OVO, knows a thing or two on the specificity of training when it comes to managing the cadre of human wonders at Cirque.

“In addition to full-out, daily performance, our artists train two hours a day on average,” says Corbett. “Most Cirque performers were first high level, competitive athletes. Cirque teaches them to be artists as well. They train in dance, improvisation and character development for at least a year before joining a show.”

Amy Ell, founder of Vault, Houston’s leading aerial dance artist, took the opposite path, seeking out circus training to augment her contemporary work. When Ell hangs from the ceiling of Spring Street Studios in her newest piece, Torn, during Spacetaker‘s SOLD OUT gala this Saturday, there’s a whole lot of smarts in both her movement and rigging choices.

Sure, she’s fearless, but not without an immensely vast knowledge base keeping her suspended mid-air. Ell, widely known on the international aerial dance circuit, has studied with circus experts all over the globe and now conducts her own teacher training at Gyrotonic Houston, her second operation. Ell is also a Master Level One Gyrotonic Trainer, one of a handful in the world.

“I have to cross train for the upper body strength,” she says.

Training is daily and specific to the art form. Without it, believe me, you can tell. I have sat through too many performances where daily class was the missing element. No, rehearsal is not enough.

So if you were one of the lucky ones dazzled by Joseph Walsh’s last minute fill in for Connor Walsh on opening night at The Sleeping Beauty, know that those snazzy double cabrioles didn’t come from playing video games, but morning  ballet class, where a dancer works diligently on “getting it down.”

For contemporary dancers, daily class has some serious obstacles, like the fact that most dancers have to work at day jobs, leaving only evenings to rehearse and train. Plus, after you graduate from college, you have to find a place to train. Karen Stokes, Head of the Dance Division at UH’s School of Theatre & Dance and Artistic Director of Travesty Dance Group, copes with this situation often. Luckily, UH grads can continue training at UH for a small donation.

“If I could pay my company dancers a realistic living as dancers, they would be able to focus completely on their training and performing.  But, I can’t, and they have to figure out how to do both,” says Stokes. “It’s not a perfect world. The fact that they make this choice at all is a testament to their passion as dancers.”

Stokes offers a warm-up or company class before each rehearsal. “It gets us all going as a company and it provides a regular technique routine.”

Jane Weiner, founder of Hope Stone, came here from New York’s competitive dance scene, where she had numerous choices for daily class. In Houston, the prospects are slim, which is why she founded Hope Center, one of the few places to take daily class for contemporary dancers.

“Class is also a time to come together as a community,” says Weiner, who is also working with Houston Ballet II for her upcoming An Evening of Bread and Circus. “And it’s a great way to introduce material from whatever dance I am working on.”

In this case, Weiner used class time to immerse HB II in her vocabulary. Houston Ballet offers adult open classes and hopes to expand its offerings now that they have more space at Center for Dance.

Watching Courtney Jones teach Suchu Dance‘s company class, I was struck by the play of bold movements mixed with tiny details. These dancers need more than a ballet class to become fluent in Jennifer Wood’s highly nuanced choreographic edges, and they have found a good match in Jones’ eclectic approach. Jam packed with quirky gestures, loose energy and an animated physicality, Wood’s idiosyncratic vocabulary takes time to master; the qualitative range, the quick shifts in direction and an organic sense of theatricality require the same amount of attention as 36 consecutive fouettes.

Suchu also performs excerpts of her newest opus Masters of Semblanceat SOLD OUT. Her show runs March 24-April 3 at Barnevelder.

Actors train, too. Do you think complicated emotions just come out of nowhere? Had a dancer been used instead of an accomplished actor inBlack Swan, I would be complaining about something else.

“Training for actors is not widely understood,” says Kim Tobin, director of  Kim Tobin Acting Studio, which is based in the Meisner and  Adler approach. “You have to work out your emotional muscles. It’s what makes any character believable.” Just like dance, performing in a play is distinct from training.

“You need a place with a safety net  to take risks and make mistakes,” says Tobin, who is launching The Stark Naked Theatre Co. with Philip Lehl in May with Debt Collectors, a modern adaptation of August Strindberg’s Creditors at Obsidian Art Space. “On the job you apply your skills.”

For Tobin, post-theater school training is essential. “College provides a good foundation, but you need to continue to work on yourself.”

So the next time you see a performing artist do something amazing, know that the second that it took to accomplish it actually took years to master.

Reprinted from Culturemap.

January 20, 2011

The Nach Project

News_Nancy_Nach Project_Jennifer Wood_friends_in Final Solo Sequence

You don’t need to know a drop about dance to make a dance, so thinksJennifer Wood, Houston’s beloved indie Suchu Dance choreographer and now mastermind behind The Nach Project (TNP), funded by a Houston Arts Alliance grant.

“Anyone can try their hand at being a budding choreographer, from novices to professionals, all our welcome,” Wood says. “And you don’t even need to live in Houston. TNP is open to people from all over the world.”

Wood launches her project 8 p.m. Saturday at Barnevelder Theater, where she will be doing a walk though of the process.

“We may even make a dance on the spot,” she says. “It’s not a sit down and be quiet event. People will be able to come and go, and there will be food and drink. Plus, it’s free.”

“Nach,” which rhymes with “much,” is Punjabi for “to dance.” The idea sprang from Wood’s desire to both keep us guessing and to educate her audiences on the ins and outs of dance making. Wood likes to change it up a bit, and rarely does the same thing twice.

“I wanted to get away from what I normally do and step out of my comfort zone,” Wood says. She also got tired of people asking if her dancers were making it up as they go along.

“People have no idea what goes into making choreography. I still get audience members wondering if we are improvising on stage,” she says. “The choreographic process is not well understood by the general public.”

As Houston’s most prolific choreographer, Wood knows first hand that making a dance is hard work. She perused her old choreography books for inspiration, but found herself quite stuck in coming up with a plan at first. So she worked in reverse, by creating a dance, then figuring out afterward how it all came together. That process formed the beginning of her very engaging and complete instructions to make a solo, duet or trio. If you get lost, help is on the way.

TNP is user-friendly from beginning to end, yet writing instructions proved no easy task.

“I had a little identity crisis when I first started. Who am I to tell anyone how to make a dance? There are so many ways to do it,” Wood admits. “These are just three of them.” To make the guidelines easy for the non-dancer, she enlisted the help of Vipul Divecha, who translated her dancer-ese into plain language that anyone can understand.

“Vipul had no idea what I was talking about in my first draft,” Wood says. “I really thought they were completely clear.”

All the dances will be uploaded to the website, so there will be a communal sharing of new work. Wood emphasizes process over results. “This is not about the end product,” she says.

TNP is set up as a separate entity outside of Suchu Dance, Barnvelder’s resident troupe. Known for her more cryptic methods, Wood rarely likes to talk about her own process. Most of her dances fall into the pure movement category, which makes the question, “What is this dance about?” even more troubling.

“People are usually disappointed when I talk about my work,” Wood says. “There is always a level of  mystique when I work on a show. I don’t want to ruin the magic.”

Her next opus is Masters of Semblance, running March 24-April 3 at Barnevelder, where she will recycle, reuse and re-purpose some of her earlier work.

“I will be using different costumes and music. I doubt anyone will be able to recognize these dances,” she says. As separate as she plans to keep her endeavors, TNP has already infiltrated her artistic process.

“I am more appreciative when I give my dancers instructions and they stare back at me with blank faces,” Wood adds.

The one thing both projects (Suchu dance and TNP) have in common is that they are often wildly entertaining. Wood’s quirky sense of humor is in great evidence no matter what she does. The choreographer has some words of advice for novice dance makers.

Don’t be scared of the instructions,” she says. “Do one step at a time and see what you come up with. Don’t worry if it’s any good or you will never get anything done. Just have fun.”

Wood has Texas-sized plans. “I hope The Nach Project will grow into a global dance community with user-generated content,” she says. “It has the potential to be a world-wide forum for learning about and for sharing dance. I really hope that the project continues to grow as something accessible for everyone everywhere in the future.”

Reprinted from Culturemap.

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